Six Moments of his Life
by Sakura123
Summary: AU, Legacy/2.0. Subroutine 'verse . "If there was one place you could go, where would it be?" Jet shrugged his shoulders. "Probably Tokyo." COMPLETE.
1. Routine

_**Six Moments of His Life**_

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**Title: Six Moments of His Life**

**Category: TRON**

**Author:** Sakura123 (weber_dubois22)

**Rating: T**

**Characters: **Jet Bradley, (Alan Bradley; Lora Bradley; Sam Flynn; Eva Popoff)

**Summary:** [AU] Legacy/2.0_ (Subroutine_ 'verse). "If there was one place you could go, where would it be?" Jet shrugged his shoulders. "Probably Tokyo."

**Written:** 4/8/2011

**Completed:** 4/8/2011

**Disclaimer:**_Tron/Tron 2.0/Tron: Legacy_ and all things related are property of Steven Lisberger, Bonnie MacBird and Walt Disney Studios (and some other guys I'm probably forgetting but can't care to remember).

**Author's Note:** A lot of these are drabble formatted tales I wrote for a TRON ficmix. Again, this ties into a bunch of ideas and spin-off tales for the tale _"Subroutine"_, but its not necessary to read said fic. A majority of these tales were inspired by tumblr animations featuring Garrett Hedlund and Chris Evans from _The Losers_ and _Country Strong_ spliced together (apparently, I'm not the only one who sees their awesome bromance potential. More reasons to dislike Disney for rectoning "2.0"). There's also a bit of the _Gucci Guilty_ in the Jet/Eva drabble.

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**one | routine | 106 words**

A routine soon develops without his notice, without his meaning it to. The cup sits on every surface he happens to stand by or lay on, a strange companion in an empty arcade-turned one-man apartment complex. Half full, half empty, waiting for his lips to touch the edge of its rim. Whatever he happens to be drinking is somehow ignored at the halfway point of empty and forgotten completely until the next day.

Half awake, Jet looks around for that frosted glass mug until he finds it right where he left it, then the cycle repeats itself in-between the pauses of his life.


	2. Strangelove

**two | strangelove | 213 words**

Eva Popoff was unlike the girls he's been involved with, a complete contrast of his mother. Where Lora was soft in all her manners, Eva was rough; her kisses were rough, her hugs were rough, even her grip was rough, but he didn't mind. It mattered very little to her whether or not he was son of the man who used to work for the company FCon was presently courting, it mattered little to her that his father and best friend thought nothing good of their relationship. She didn't hesitate to capitalize in making them uncomfortable with her affection toward him, even if it was brief and she was on her way out of the door.

Alan believed her intentions toward him were less than honest, Sam stated more than once that she gave him the creeps. Lora was probably the person he knew (outside of his co-workers) that kept from commenting on the subject of his romantic partner, he hoped it was because she trusted him enough to make the right choices.

Jet knew he loved Eva and there were times he believed he was ready to wait forever to hear the same sentiments from her. Presently, however, he was content with their relationship, as it was now, slow and steady.


	3. Questions

**three-one | questions | 317 words**

"If there was one place you could go, where would it be?"

Jet shrugged his shoulders. "Probably Tokyo, Eva tells me there are plenty software companies looking for some genius level help."

"C'mon, man, I'm being serious. Where would you go?"

"I'm aware of your seriousness, my answer was completely serious."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Sam gave his friend a sidelong look, dubious of the honesty of his statement. "Who's this Eva?"

"She happens to be my girlfriend, Sam," Jet replies without the slightest indication of hesitation. The announcement - or at the very least, the words - give Sam pause. He leans slightly to the side as a laugh, somewhere between genuine and forced, rumbles in his chest. "Girlfriend?" Sam repeats the word like he's unsure if he heard right.

Jet nodded again, fingers twiddling idly across the pool table as he prepares to count the billiard balls gathered in the center of the table. "Yeah, girlfriend. We've been dating for six months at the very least," He explained. "I met her in a supermarket not far from where I live. She dropped her mascara next to my foot (by accident, by the way), she apologized, we started talking. We really hit off and the rest from there, as they say-" He made a dramatic sweep of his hand "-is history."

"Is that right?" The doubt in Sam's voice wasn't hard to miss. The automatic roll of his eyes came upon Jet without warning, he bit the inside of his cheek as he tapped the pool stick against the table's edge. "Yeah, it is," Jet replied. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd-"

"Hey, I wasn't gonna say anything," Sam raised his hands in mock surrender, the guitar in his hand dropped onto his lap, momentarily forgotten. For once, Jet decided not to pursue the issue any further and focused on the one man pool game in front of him.


	4. Brothers

**three two | brothers | 306 words**

Not unlike their father's, Jet and Sam were as different as two young men could be. Prior to Uncle Kevin's disappearance, they got on together like blood-brothers, there wasn't a moment either of them could remember when they weren't spending time together in their world of adventure and limitless possibilities. In retrospect, Jet supposed it wasn't terribly surprising that the older they got the greater the distance between them would become.

However, the one thing they would always have in common would be the unspoken resentment for Kevin Flynn. When Sam retreated into himself and the world of extremely stupid sports/stunts, Jet got himself a girlfriend and removed himself completely from all things concerned with Flynn and ENCOM (until he moved into his apartment). He paved his own way, rejected following in his father's footsteps and reignited his passion for developing video games.

When Sam chose to shack himself up in a DUMONT storage unit (with a taunting view of ENCOM Tower), Jet settled for living in Flynn's Arcade, smack in a half-empty neighborhood that'd seen better days. Sam's rapport with Alan, though strained, was stronger than his, as Jet chose not to speak to his father unless it suited his mood. Sam grew a mustache and goatee one year, Jet teased him mercilessly for it until he woke up one morning without his.

They used each other's last names when one was annoyed or wanted to annoy the other and were often confused for their fathers if they answered the phone "Bradley/Flynn speaking", though Jet couldn't see why. In summary, the surface quirks of their friendship remained, it was just the deeper aspect of their relationship, the ability to share a look and know what the other was thinking, that had gotten lost in translation, eroded by age and long absences.


	5. Fathers

**four | fathers | 256 words**

"Is there a reason behind the house call, or should I call a taxi and tell 'em you lost your way?" Alan glanced up from the studying the water stains on the floor to regard his son's tired face; he'd gotten so used to the constant use of sarcasm that the comment didn't register in his head as anything except a question.

Alan gestured casually to the front door, a bemused smile on his face. "My car's outside, but thanks for the concern," Alan replied. Jet hung his head low and muttered under his breath and began to count the seconds.

He knows Alan means well, even at 28 years old, Jet knows Alan just wants to do right by his son. However, the easy acceptance or readiness to accept his father's hand had fallen away when he was eighteen. Eva ironically declared it a remnant of his "teenage angst" years and Jet would agree, at the age of fourteen he wasn't the easiest person to deal with; he was a full-blown troublemaker, through and through.

He'd done enough things with computers to land him in jail/community service more times than a little bit, but his mother and father were always there to bail him out.

But he wasn't fourteen anymore, he knew what he wanted, where he was going in his life, knew what not to do. Unfortunately Alan's inability to shut-off the parental compulsion to tell him how to run his life, had no room in the schematics of his plans.


	6. Storyteller

**five | storyteller | 244 words**

There's this story my godfather used to tell me when he was still around; it was about how he gets zapped into a computer at his old job, ENCOM, and discovered that there was world inside of it. Programs looked like the people that made them, you could play all the games you'd play at his arcade like you were really apart of it, like the Lightcycles, and there was this huge red faced bad guy called the MCP.

Programs treated him like he was God because he was a "User" and not a program like them, he made friends with two programs that looked like my parents, and fought a bad guy looked like his ex-co worker (Flynn called him "Sark"). The 3 of them defeated Sark and the MCP and Flynn got sent back to the real world.

Just before he disappeared, Uncle Flynn started talking about how he created this replica world like the one in the ENCOM computers and made a virtual copy of himself to govern it. Thinking back on all of this stuff now, I can't tell you how badly I wanted to believe this place was real, but my dad tells me it was just Flynn's way of coping with whatever problems he had after he became the boss of the company and lost his wife. Dr. Arnspiger certainly agrees with dad's take on things.

And who knows, maybe their right? Maybe my uncle was crazy.


	7. Safety

**seven | safety | 302 words**

"It's a problem, I don't know how to fix it."

"You'll figure it out, I know you will."

A momentary pause and a flash of disbelief crossed his ragged features as he dropped the somewhat empty Pepsi bottle onto the table. It rolled unceremoniously across the table before falling onto the floor. She knew well enough not to get angry at him, not to show her dismay as the sticky sweet beverage spread out across her floor. "Why do you do that?"

Lora rose from the table, dishrag in hand, as she kneeled on the floor. "Do what?" She asked.

"Why do you always assume I'll figure it out? That I'll be okay?" He asked. "Why not be like everybody else?"

There was a reason behind this question, the underlying frustration and relief in his words combated against each other. He wanted to be grateful for the fact that she didn't scold him, but at the same time, he wanted her to doubt him, he wanted something to fight about. She was his mother after all, it was only reasonable that she'd expect the worse from him these days. Everyone else did.

"Jethro, I'm not sure what you want me to say," She stood behind his chair, her shadow loomed over the table like a Jungian figure. "You made a mistake, it happens."

"Dad-"

"Jethro, I love your father, but sometimes he let's his temper get the better of his otherwise level-head," Lora sighed. "He wasn't exactly Mr. responsibility when he was a teenager either. You should hear what he did to his father's car."

"Yeah, but-"

"I'll admit, I wasn't happy about it either, but then you're only sixteen, I expected it (prayed it wouldn't happen, though) and it's only a car." She placed a hand atop of his head, a patronizing move to be sure, but something Jet welcomed nonetheless. "Our insurance will cover the damages, I'm just glad you're safe."


	8. Resolution

**six | resolution | 162 words**

At some point in his life, Jet learned it was easier to angst than it was to maintain a sense of positivism. Upon the day of his graduation from high school, he was determined not to fall into the same emotional rut Sam had fallen victim to, he wouldn't let the misgivings between himself and his father drag him down to the point of being angry at all the time.

He would do exactly what his mother always urged him to do; he would be happy, he would live his life to the fullest and let the past fall behind him, become a mere reminder of mistakes to avoid.

Turmoil would not be his coil, _"Simple Man"_ wouldn't become his anthem. Instead, he would hold onto the theme of that one Journey song and dance his way through way through trouble. Or in this case, into the elevator that would take him to the floor where his cubical he waited for him.


End file.
